


Up the Junction

by h_avok, slimsummers



Category: X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Ableism, Abuse, Alcohol, Angst, Canon Divergence, Child Abuse, Death, Developmental Disorders, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Havok's gay, Hospitals, Lots and lots of descriptive gore, Manipulation, Mental Illness, Mental manipulation in a sexual setting, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Older brother Alex, Plane Crashes, Sexual Abuse, Strong Language, Suicide, Tourettes Scott, Violence, all kinds of crashes really, car crashes, evil xavier, implied underage uh....everything?, light homophobia (diet homophobia if you will), no incest you nasty fucks, ungodly amounts of angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-07
Updated: 2017-10-06
Packaged: 2018-08-13 13:35:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7978588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/h_avok/pseuds/h_avok, https://archiveofourown.org/users/slimsummers/pseuds/slimsummers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Canon Divergent/AU Combining 616, Ultimates, Movieverse, Cartoons etc. ] [Slow updates due to school, but never abandoned.]</p><p> <br/>Growing up a mutant is hard. Especially when you're in the Summers bros. situation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fire In The Hole

Not every family owned a airplane, and most families that did certainly didn't own a World War II Combat Aircraft, but the Summers family did. Yes sir, Christopher Summers's _**de Havilland Mosquito**_ , which he had rebuilt himself from almost the ground up, was his pride and joy. Sometimes his wife Katherine pondered to herself whether the day _their children_ were born was the best day of Christopher's life like he said it was, or the day he found the plane for auction in an old junkyard.

Yes, their children, That's who this story focuses on though;

Alex, their firstborn son, who was ten, and Scott, the second-born, who was six, though only a few short days away from turning seven, so a three year difference was between them.

* * *

 

There was another child on the way, who was a boy and didn't have a name yet and was probably only a few days away from being born, though the parents were reluctant to tell either of the two boys about this as Scott and the new baby were most likely going to have disastrously close birthdays, which meant less presents between them and Scott would not like that at all.

The brothers sat in their seats in their winter coats and Scott murmured about how cool the plane was and made machine gun noises and machine gun motions and talked about how he was going to join the air force like his Dad one day, which got a chuckle out of Christopher and a smile out of Katherine and an annoyed sigh out of Alex because even though he loved his little brother very much Scott had told him this exact thing five times in the last hour and it was getting rather repetitive.

They'd just been on a camping trip, a fun one, and were returning home up the coast to Alaska, and Scott was starting to get tired as six year olds do and just as they got rather close to home a large 'thunk' could be heard and a flash of red could be seen and this obviously meant something not very good was about to happen and ruin their nice flight back to Alaska.

Being children, Scott and Alex didn't really know what was happening other than it was bad and Dad was yelling and so was their Mother;

"WHY did you have to buy a old piece of junk like this, _**Christopher**_?"

"Well, _**Katherine**_ , I hate to say it but a unknown projectile, hitting the plane doesn't have to do with it's age... was that debris? Oh god, oh god, Kathy- We're going to die."

\- and that the roof of the plane had been torn off and just as Christopher had gotten some kind of control of it, the controls burst into flames and they knew they didn't really have any other option than what Chris and Katherine were about to do.

Grabbing a hold of the rather frightened Alex, they quickly explained to him the situation, "We don't know what's happening, we think we've been hit by something, but there's no chance of the plane surviving, you have to listen to me, and take care of your brother, Alex." Katherine had said, clipping the parachute around him, she pushed Scott into his arms and then tied the two together.

Within a few moments they were standing at the edge of the doorway and mostly all that could be seen is flame and the forest below.

"Scott," Christopher started "Keep a very tight hold of your Brother for me, okay?" Scott nodded in reply, and as the parents gave their last goodbyes and their last "I love you", Katherine pushed them out of the plane and they went plummeting down, down, down, down. Alex, trying to push back his panic, though he could feel it in his throat and he could feel the force of the wind making his skin feel like it was burning, kept relatively calm and collected, which his younger brother most certainly wasn't doing as he was crying probably the most he'd ever cried in his life, and constantly letting go to wipe his nose which this really wasn't the place to be doing that.

"You've gotta hold on tight, Scotty. Dad said so- Oh, He-..hot dogs-" He quickly pulled the parachute cord and out it came which made their fall slower, but as he complained once again about Scott not holding on tight enough he noticed that the parachute they were trusting their lives on was now burning into a crisp and they went back to plummeting down and down and down, and then Alex got flipped in the air and they crashed into the dirt and it started raining heavily as anything and as he regained a grip on himself, he noticed Scott-who had got separated from him during the landing and was about a meter away- was oddly silent and his usually light brown hair was now looking rather.. Cherry red. Alarm bells went off in his head, that's for sure. Alex coughed and spluttered and crawled over to Scott and he rolled him over, "Scotty?"

"Mm.. Aalex, whas' happen'? Wassat?"

He pulled Scott onto his lap and held him, pushing him forward quickly to inspect the back of his head. Blood. A lot of it. "Oh... god." His skull was.. cracked like a damn egg. Who knows if he'd even survive. He choked. "N-nothing- what'd you say, Scotty? Oh.. shoot, shoot-" His parents weren't around, why was Alex still censoring himself? He probably was never seeing his parents again, he should just let himself swear, he thought.

"Whas' happen'?"

"... Uh, you.. I don't know what you're- it's okay, doesn't matter." He could feel tears welling up, and he pulled Scott closer to him and held him as tight as he could and wished that this would all be a dream. "Do you feel okay? And be honest, man."

".... 'M fine, yeah, I'm good." Scott looked rather contented, and he closed his eyes "Can I sleep.. 'm gonna sleep."

Alex shook him, "No, Scott, you can't sleep, stay awake, okay? Please? Look, your nose is runnin'.. c'mon." He pulled his sleeve down and wiped Scott's nose with it, "There, now you're good."

"Heuh.. Booger lover.. You touched snot. Germss.."

"...... I sure did." He felt oddly offended by this.

Even at a time like this, Scott was still only six... and Alex was still only ten.

Alex started to cry, he couldn't even help it, he just sat there in the cold and held Scott and sniffled and then noticed that Scott had gone limper than he already was and that he'd fallen asleep so he finally let himself panic and he shook him and he yelled at him and hoped he'd wake up but he didn't so he bawled his eyes out and waited for what felt like days, but was in reality was only about an hour, when he saw what was a literal light in the darkness, two campers- a man and a woman- with a large torch were there to save the day.

It wasn't like a day like this could be saved, though. Not when Scott was probably dead, and if he wasn't dead he was probably brain-dead, and so were his parents and he'd never get to go home again and Alex really really didn't like this at all. 

* * *

 

As the two were being carried away, Alex started thinking again. Why was he stopping himself from swearing?

For Scott. He was doing it for Scott.


	2. Hospital food is disgusting.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As a ten year old, you never imagine you'd have to deal with your six year old brother bashing his head on a rock after you survived a plane crash. 
> 
> Yet here we are.

 

So this was shaping up to be the worst vacation ever. If you could even call this a vacation.

 

Hanging out in hospitals definitely wasn't something Alex was unfamiliar with, Scott's not exactly the most graceful child, but, he was usually okay after a few days. This wouldn't be so simple.

 

The truth of the matter was, the blow to Scott's head had really really messed him up, and they'd already taken him to emergency surgery the night before. 5 hours and 78 stitches later and Scott was sound asleep in a hospital bed Alex had pulled a chair up next to. For all he knew, Scott was asleep dreaming about _Speed Racer_  or something. 

 

Alex felt weirdly calm about this whole situation thus far. Not exactly calm but something else and probably far worse. Numb? Not that he wasn't sad about Scott or anything because obviously he was, he needed his little brother more than anything and he's sure Scott feels the same way. It's just that right now, Alex is feeling literally nothing at all, just this constant sinking feeling like he's going to throw up.

 

Before too long, a nice lady in a white coat with a very soft voice came to talk to Alex about what'd happened. She had dark curly hair and pretty blue eyes that made Alex feel a lot safer about the situation he was in. They reminded him of his mom's. 

 

"Hi Alex, that is your name, right?"

"Yep. Tha's me!" Alex nodded at her question, smiling a little.

"Well Alex, I have some good news and I have some bad news. Which would you like to hear first?" She leaned down to kneel in front of Alex's chair, she looked kind of sad, and he wondered why she looked so troubled. She didn't just lose half her family, what was her problem? 

 

Alex looked puzzled for a moment trying to think of a way to answer her. "Uh," he started "good news!" 

 

The doctor lady (that's what Alex is calling her now, she hasn't introduced herself yet) sighed and rubbed the side of her face. "Okay..good news is, Scott is pretty much fine, we patched him up really good. Alright?" Alex nodded in response. Now dreading asking about the bad news next. 

 

"So...wha's the bad news then?" 

 

"The bad news is that, though Scott will most likely be fine, he hit his head really bad. And in order to make sure that he does end up okay, we may need to..." she trailed off, looking for a better way to word this, ".....put him to sleep for a while." 

 

Alex still looked confused, but kind of understood. "So...he's gonna take a nap and then he'll be better?" He questioned. That made no sense to him at all. How could he just sleep off something like that? Seems silly, he thought.  
  
"He's already asleep." The doctor lady responded. For some reason Alex felt like there was something he wasn't being told, and all of a sudden his stomach started to feel not-so-good. He tilted his head at her and asked "Whens he gonna wake up then?" Alex figured she'd say that Scott would be asleep for a week or so, a month at the most.   
  
"We uh...we're not sure yet." She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.    
  
"What? But I thought you said that  _you_ were going to put him t' sleep, why don't you know when he'll wake up?" Alex was feeling that weird heat blossom on his face, he as angry. Why wouldn't this lady be honest about how long Scott would be asleep? It just wasn't fair.   
  
Alex doesn't remember much of what happened next, all he remembers is starting to feel really angry and he started yelling, and when the nurse tried to calm down he latched his teeth onto her hand, after a few moments he tasted something metallic and gross. Blood. Ew. The woman dropped Alex from her arms and he landed on the cold linoleum with a thud. Owwww. Right on the butt.   
  
He musters up the strength to crawl onto Scott's bed and he decides that if Scott's gonna go to sleep until he's better Alex might as well wit until this all blows over anyhow.

 

* * *

When Alex woke up again, he still felt sleepy, and he surely wasn't in Scott's hospital bed anymore. 

He was surrounded by several adults, most of them doctors, _that  looks like one of those guys that you see around kids with bad parents_ , he thought. 

One man leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. He looked to be one of the doctors as well, white coat  stethoscope etc. "So tell me Alex," he was young looking, dark hair, perfect teeth. Something piercingly eerie about his eyes though. "Why did you bite Dr. Payne here?" So  _that_ was the doctor lady's name. Seems kind of ironic though.   
  
"'Cuz she wouldn't tell me how long Scotty was gonna be asleep. We've got stuff t' do y'know, like I've gotta go back and find my mom and dad an' Scotty's prolly got homework he needs t' do or somethin'....how soon can I go home?" Alex was getting nervous, really nervous, really fast. Were they ever going home? Was Scott gonna be okay? Would he ever go back to how he was? Would they ever see dad again?   
  
"I'm afraid you won't be going home for a while, little guy" he said, looking at Alex very very sadly, "we have a lot of work to do on your brother yet. Do you wanna know what we think might happen to him?" Alex nodded in response. "Well," he began, sitting up straight and starting to explain what was going to happen to Scott. By this point, Alex wasn't paying any attention at all. He heard some stuff about Scott possibly being asleep for 6 months or longer.   
  
Once he was finished, the weird social worker looking guy pulled up a chair in front of Alex and started to ask him questions like: "What are your parents names?" "What happened to the two of you that landed Scott like this anyhow?" "Were your parents bad to you at all?"   
  
Then the guy asked if they had anymore family or relatives, to which Alex shook his head 'no' and asked that he be let to go visit with his brother again.   
  
"Well Alex, we kinda have to find you a place to live, you can stay here until your ribs and your shoulder fully heal, but after that we're gonna have to find another place to stay. And since you don't have any other legal guardians, we'll have no choice but to take you to the nearest orphanage just a few miles away from here." The male doctor from before said this all with a huge beaming smile on his face, like being an orphan was going to be the best adventure Alex had ever been on.   
  
In that moment, that was the second that Alex Summers lost it. Not in the usual way where he's kicking and screaming angrily like usually he would. No, this was different, this was the weight of their situation really hitting him finally. He curls up in the chair as much as his body will let him, and he buries his head in his knees and he cries. He cries and cries and one of the doctors puts their hand on his shoulder, he shrugged it off roughly, not wanting anything to do with these people.   
  
They let him sit there and cry, for about 45 minutes they all sat there awkwardly while Alex lost his mind in front of them, mumbling about how nothing was fair and how he wants his dad back and how his mom should be her. He weepily told them how badly he wanted his dad back and he didn't want a stupid family who wouldn't actually love him like a son.   
  
Pretty soon Alex was absolutely inconsolable, and for what at the time seemed like it was for the greater good, he felt a small pinprick and started feeling......really...sleepy..

* * *

 

Today was Scott's birthday.   
  
September 6th.   
  
The doctors said someone who claimed to be their dad who refused to even set foot in the hospital or claim his kids, left a red  toy matchbox car for Scott. How lame.   
  
Alex had begged and begged Dr. Morris (the one with perfect teeth) to buy Scott a card. He was completely convinced that today would be the day Scott woke up. Happy birthday Scott, you're 7 now.   
  
Dr. Morris gave in, giving Alex $5 to go buy his little brother a card. Alex locked his eyes on a Speed Racer card.Fastest purchase of his life. By now, he doesn't remember what the card said on it or if he wrote in it but he just left it there on his bedside table. Scott wouldn't wake up that day, and Alex spent the whole night crying and yelling his smaller brothers sleeping form that he'd need to wake up real real soon so that they could go back to the way things were. Alex worked himself over trying to convince Scott to wake up until eventually he just laid down at his feet and slept. Pretty much every night after that, he slept in Scott's bed.   
  
Almost every night Alex would lay awake, or sit rather, and 'talk to Scott'. He did this so often that it really had begun to become a regular thing so much so that Alex barely ever slept because he was up all hours of the night pondering what he would do after...no. If Scott didn't make it. Which he would. Of course he would. What would he do as a stupid 11 year old with no family left? He wanted nothing less than to be an orphan or get adopted into a family that doesn't actually love him. Seems like that was the way things were turning out, though.   
  
Alex had never felt more numb in his whole 11 year old life. God was it terrible just sitting there 24 hours a day, not being able to sleep or talk to anyone except occasionally some of the doctors would come to check on him. Usually Dr. Morris. He seemed to like Alex, he brought him extra puddings from the cafeteria when he was only supposed to have one, he'd somehow end up with three. Morris was a good dude, Alex had made a joke once or twice about him adopting Alex. Obviously that wasn't happening.   
  
It was so damn lonely in that hospital room all of the time, it didn't even seem like time existed there. It was all just wake up, sit there and do nothing. Watch Scott's heart monitor intently until Morris brought him lunch, then complain to him for 15 minutes about whatever was bothering him that didn't have to do with Scott until he had to go and do his damn job again. Then Alex was left alone again, and this is the point usually where he cries. A lot. He lays his way too big for an 11 year old body on the bed below Scott's feet and he cries until he passes out from being that overstimulated. 

* * *

 

Scott ended up being in a coma for a year. A whole year. Alex was 11 now when Scott woke up finally, and Alex, thinking he was clever, tried to impersonate their father as best he could. This was obviously a failed attempt, the first words out of Scott's mouth after an entire year were "I know it's you, shithead."   
  
Alex quickly learned that his brother was going to need a  _lot_ of help getting back on his feet. Quite literally. Scott had developed lots of muscular issues as well as fucking up his balance and really messing up his ability to walk. The doctors told him that he'd need Alex to help him learn to walk again, and boy, did Alex deliver on that one. All of that and more, basically after Scott had woken up Alex hadn't left his side or took his eyes off of him for a single second. Everything was strangely normal for a while, as much as it could get at least.   
  
Scott went through all of his stuff pretty silent. Alex didn't pry too much if at all, really. He was probably going through the same shock Alex went through when he first found out about mom and dad dying. As much as he wanted his sweet bubbly little brother back, he understood he'd have to wait. And that was okay,  
  


* * *

Alex forgot about this day coming. He'd tried for a year to try and prevent it but some things are just set in stone.   
  
One day, Dr. Morrison woke Alex up with a grim smile on his face. Two men were standing at the door in neat black suits. When Scott woke up and asked what was going on one of the men only had one thing to say:  
  
"You boys are movin' to the Orphanage."

 


	3. Scott watches a lot of M*A*S*H

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a good show!

Scott always thought the place he hated most was any hospital, or any place resembleing a hospital for that matter, but if he were to look down deepest into himself he'd probably find out that the place he hated even more than hospitals was any place that was old and grey and had dusty windows and dusty floors and basically the place he hated most was the Alaska State Home for Foundlings.

He had good reasons to, though. Very good ones. When he was a few months shy of eight years old and he walked up those steps with his crutches and his older brother and the clothes on his back, he thought that that day would be the first day of the rest of his life. As far as he was concerned, his history started the day he woke up in the St. John's hospital children's ward and was told his family was dead and he'd been asleep for almost a year.

The door was opened, and Alex and Scott were greeted by a proffesoinal looking man in a grey suit with greying hair who somewhat resembled Father John Mulcahy from M*A*S*H. Scott gulped, and he looked over at his Brother, who looked at him and smiled and said "Cheer up, Scotty!" Thought it was obvious Alex himself wasn't cheery and neither was Scott and as the man who remebled Father John Mulcahy lead them to room they'd be sleeping in and they sat down on their respective beds, reality hit them- They were now completely alone in the world.

* * *

 

After a few days to a week of getting used to the place, the two brothers were lead out to the front office where they were greeted by various men in suits who explained to them once again that their family were dead and that they'd be staying at this orphanage until they were adopted, which seemed likely for Alex but not as likely for Scott because Scott had a broken brain and he was not very smart and he was starting to get these strange twitches in his face and would sometimes make sounds he wasn't purposely making and it wasn't gaining him any popularity. Being on crutches was already painting him as the local cripple though he swore to himself he'd be able to walk properly again in the next six months, even if the doctors inisted it'd be a year at the least.

Eventually once that almost a year had passed and he could for the most part walk on his own, and he'd been beaten up many times and his brother had taken just as many beatings for him, they were shoved into a car and told they were going to see more doctors, new doctors, psycha.. psychatrists... psychologists? 'Cologists? What were they called? The brain doctors.

There was a man who this time looked like Major. Frank Burns frm M*A*S*H if he was a evil scientist, and a young looking woman with long blonde hair who was skinny as a pole and pale as snow and both of the boys thought they were both rather creepy, though the woman would give them mints and gum and things like that so neither of them really minded.

Scott would mostly see the man, and Alex would see the woman and their usual visit would involve Scott sitting on the ground and playing with Lego and talking to the man who was named Mr. Nathaniel and their conversations would usually be along the lines of;

>   
>  "How old are you, Scott?"
> 
> "Eight."
> 
> "Where do you live?"
> 
> "'Laska. Alassssska. Alaska."
> 
> "Do you have nightmares, Scott?"
> 
> "'Dunno, probably."
> 
> "What're they about, if you do have them?"
> 
> "Fire. Lostsha fire."
> 
> "Lotsha?"
> 
> "Lotsha it."
> 
> "What does that mean, is that slang?"
> 
> "Naw, it just means there's a big number of it."

And sometimes Scott would blank and forget what he was saying and where he was and what year it was and he'd feel like he was on the verge of collapse, but he never did and he was thankful for it and he'd ask him about that stuff, too, and eventually he got told he had more things wrong with him than he thought, "Autism" and "Tourettes Syndrome" and that he was "Traumatized" And all sorts of things like that, and he thought it was a lot of things for someone who was only eight years old to have so he disregarded it completely.

Meanwhile, Alex would see the woman, who was only 19 or 20 years old surpsingly and who's name was Emma Frost, PHD, and being older by three years he would get asked real questions and the woman would expect mature answers from him;

> "How old are you, Alex?"
> 
>   
>  "Eleven, Ma'am."
> 
> "Where do you live?"
> 
>   
>  "Alaska State Home for Foundlings."
> 
> "Tell me about your childhood.. before the crash. Has your brother always been so, uhm.. Hmm, well, dull, to be frank about it, he's a darling but he's.."

And then she'd ask more questions along those lines and she'd give Alex candy and mints and they'd sit there and wait for Scott and Alex thought it was somewhat like being bribed for information but if these people could increase their chances for adoption somehow someway by making issues with their heads better than so be it.

Eventually, with Alex being unable to sleep at night, mostly due to that every night Scott would wake up crying and get scared and crawl into Alex's bed and Alex would have to hold him and pet his hair and tell him everything was alright until he was asleep and then Alex would lie there awake, and though he blamed Scott's nightmares on his inability to sleep in reality, at least according to his doctor, it was a case of insomnia and just before turning 12 years old he found himself being put on Melatonin, which was supposed to be helping him sleep but.. really wasn't.

In fact, for about three days Alex was wide wide awake, almost as if his brain was in overdrive, and two of these three days he spent throwing up more than he ever had before and probably ever will, so he was very swiftly taken off of it and since, with both of them being seemingly allergic to every medication given whether it painkillers or anything else, when Scott was 10 and Alex was 13 they were introduced to a very very nice woman named Robyn Hanover who was apparently their 'caseworker' or something along those lines, and as she'd told Scott she was apparently a specialist in working with kids like them and there were others like them in many ways and in a few short weeks the two boys had grown to see this woman as a sort of Mother figure, which they supposed was the intention.

There was something strange about the woman though, about her eyes. They were an unnatural green and just looking at them made you feel a strange sway so they tended to avoid looking her in the eyes when speaking, though both the boys did this anyways no matter who they were talking with.

Eventually, enough of the many passing teachers that taught the children at the orphanage had noted that Scott wasn't doing well and he'd forget too much and he couldn't concentrate, and although as far as anyone knew he didn't have ADHD (Though, Alex did) or ADD or anything along those lines, Ms. Frost and Mr. Nathaniel had been talking and decided that, despite all the previous issues with medication both boys had had, they'd be putting Scott on the drug Ritalin, which Alex knew about because he'd been offered it but didn't want to take it as at the time he had just gotten off Melatonin and he very much didn't want a repeat of what happened with that.

* * *

 

"Ritalin...? For Scott?" Robyn questioned, carefully reading over the bottle as she sat in her office with the two boys.

Scott was busy watching M*A*S*H on the TV, the channels showed it a lot and he watched it a lot in hospital when he was awake and he continued to watch it whenever he could even if he didn't really like it that much, and Alex was sitting sipping away at a can of coke.

"Yep.. I think it's a bad idea, I mean.. but, if it's what the adults think'll help 'im, then so be it." Alex sighed, nudging his brother slightly.

"Yeah... shut up, Ahlex, 'm watching this."

"Rude. Anyway, like.. it's a bad idea. What do you think, Ma'am?"

"Please, don't bother with the formalities, you know I hate it, Alex."

"Yes, Robyn."

"That's better. I think considering you twos medical history, it's an awful idea, who knows what it could do to him.." She moved the bottle to view more information on the back of it, the pills inside rattling as she did so. "I was surpirsed it took them so long to take you off Melatonin. Sometimes it seems like those psychatrists of yours are trying to kill you."

"Maybe the orphanage is payin' them off to kill us 'cuz we're stuck here and no one'll adopt us." Alex finished the can of drink, putting it down rather hard on the table.

"More like no one'll adopt Me, dude. 'S 'cuz I'm brain damaged, you've had four or five families wantin' you, but you've just refused to go." Scott turned around from the black and white TV set, resting his arms on the back of the chair.

"Yeah, whatever. Got anymore coke, Robyn?"

"Nope, that was it. You're only allowed one of those a day- anyway, with the ritalin.. Alex, come closer."

Alex scooted forward, "Yeah?"

Robyn whispered to him; "We're going to let Scott take it for a while, see what it does to him, because, who knows.. but if he shows any signs of, anything, we're taking him off it, okay?"

"Yep. Sounds good."

"Good." Robyn stood up, walked over to Scott, and ruffled his hair, "So,-"

"Don't touch th- Eerk.. Don't touch the hair."

"Sorry, didn't mean to mess up your pomp, Elvis."

"It's not a pompadaour...... anyway, wassit? Erk. You're putting me on stupid pills?"  
"No- Scott, these'll.. help."

And Robyn explained to Scott about what these pills would do and Scott accepted it and by the morning he was sitting in his room with Alex and a glass of water and had taken them and they didn't do anything at all, or make him feel different, but after a few weeks he was getting sick from it, very sick, so he threw the bottle in his bottom drawer and went on with his life as if it had never happened and was soon exactly as he was but not sick.

* * *

 

Soon after, the orphanage was holding one of their usual days where they'd get families in to 'inspect the goods' as Alex liked to put it, except this one was unique in that they were allowed to have the children they'd taken a liking to stay with them for the weekend, and Alex had been picked to stay with one of these families, as he had many times before, but Scott, as usual hadn't been picked, and he knew full well the reason was all the diagnoses he had and that he was brain damaged and not very smart, and he'd had more than enough of it.

When Alex left that afternoon to go see these potential new parents, Scott, being the only one left in the orphanage aside from a few staff members, angrily paced around his room, to him, he had been abandoned. Would Alex be coming back? Last time this happened, Robyn was there at least to keep him company, but god knows where she was right now.

"Think 'm stupid, do they." He grumbled, his pacing quickening, "Think 'm real dumb, try to put me on pills. Alex doesn't think I'm dumb. But maybe he does, he probably does." He got down on the floor and swiftly opened the drawer that was previously mentioned and found the half full bottle of medication and got several ideas in his head that to his 11-year-old mind seemed fantastic and would "really show them".

Later that night as Scotty sat there alone he looked at the bottle, and opened the lid and downed the whole lot of them and at first he didn't feel anything but eventually he felt a strange sensation and got a sudden urge to do one of the stupidest things he'd done in his life.

He got up, he put on his coat and his sneakers and through somewhat of a haze he stumbled down the stairs and looked over his shoulder compulsively, thinking there was something watching him, and once he'd made it outside he went to the nearby garage and found himself a container of fuel. There to power the emergency generator, but, they wouldn't be needing that anymore. Not after what he was going to do.

He made a lap around the orphanage, spilling the fuel as he did to, purposely of course, and then he made extra sure to douse the steps and doorway until all of it was empty and he threw the red plastic canister aside.

A hand reached into his coat pocket, and out came a box of matches and he lit one, and he threw it and before he knew it he was standing in a circle of flame, pure flame. It reminded him of his younger childhood, but he couldn't quite work out why. He stood there, and he watched, and he heard a car pull up behind him and a woman yell out his name "Scott!" and he turned around and saw Robyn, with Alex, who was at this time fourteen, who had apparently been called after a staff member had caught him taking all those pills and soon he found himself overly disorientated and he was on the ground, coughing and heaving and everything was black and he felt his brother's hand touch his shoulder and from there on it was nothing.

He somewhat hoped he was dead.


	4. Out of the fire, into the frying pan.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott has a lot of problems at the orphanage. Alex, as always, picks up the pieces.

If Alex Summers had ever had a time to feel scared it would be now, watching flames eat up the place he called his pseudo-home; The Alaska State Home for Foundlings, and his little brother lying on the ground very close to becoming part of the inferno. But, he didn't feel scared. Well, he did, any person in this situation- especially an already vulnerable fourteen year old boy would feel scared right now. But, just like he'd done many years prior in another firey situation, he gulped down his fear and his panic and closed his eyes and through coughing and wheezing and nothing but intense burning heat that for whatever reason didn't bother him in the slightest, he found Scott's trembling form and pulled him out. Was he conscious? No. Was he dead? Hopefully not. No, he wasn't dead. He couldn't be dead.

  
"Scott's a trooper-" Was what Robyn had said, Alex assumed she was trying to pull the two boys away to a safe distance, as she tugged and pulled at Alex's shoulders who was almost like set in stone there with his hands placed firmly on his Brother's soot-covered body.

  
He felt angry, he felt very very undeniably angry. Why would Scott do this? Who knows. Alex didn't quite know why Scott did most of the things he did, or why he himself did a lot of things. He put it down to being young. He regretted leaving Scott alone- Scott and being alone never had a good outcome, but it wasn't like he had a choice. Wasn't his fault if some stupid family wanted to see how he fared with their seven birds and eight dogs and their lament over their dead baby.

  
"'Tis some visitor," Robyn muttered, "tapping at my chamber door— Only this and nothing more."

  
"What?" Alex turned around, snapping out of his strange trance.

  
"Nothing. It's poetry. Let's get you boys out of here before the police arrive and you're both landed with five years in juvenile hall. Here, let me take Scott to the car-" She looked Alex in the eyes, as crystal green as emeralds that adorned the ring fingers of many a rich wife , and Alex felt a strange sway over him and like everything would be safe and he trusted this woman with his life completely, so he took his hands off of his baby brother and watched as Robyn gently picked up Scott in her arms, and began walking to her car, whispering calming words to the younger, which the older thought was very strange as Scott was obviously asleep and he stood up and brushed all the dirt and ashes off of himself that he could and began to trail behind.  
  
Scott doesn't remember much after that. Alex remembers everything.   
  
For the next week or two, Scott and Alex stay with their new technical guardian, Ms. Robyn Hanover. She was one of the single sweetest women on Earth, Alex thought so at least. She was always trying to make life better for Scott, protecting him, standing up for him, etc. But Alex far underestimated the lengths that this woman would go for these two young children, like the day the weird policeman showed up to the door and Robyn just politely told him to leave, and then he did and little 13 year old Alex was extremely dumbfounded by how much power this woman had over people.   
  
Alex had this strange suspicion about her like something was....off. He had no idea how he'd ever explain it to anyone, and never really planned on doing so. But he thought there was probably something more to her than he knew.   
  
Scott would sleep all day and all night, wake up for a couple hours and beg Alex to watch some cartoons with him. Inb  the middle of whatever cartoon they watched (or sometimes the news? Scott was really insistent on watching the local news.) , Scott'd fall asleep on Alex's chest and 10 minutes later his hands were covered in drool. Not that Alex minded much, though.  
  
Sometimes Scott would 'have accidents' on the regular. He'd either throw up, piss himself, or both. They were never predictable and Alex was always the one left to clean it up, get his little brother a clothing change, etc.   
  


Alex gets really angry sometimes, especially when Scott can't say his name right or when he accidentally gets pissed on because of his sibling. He's not mad  **at** Scott, no not at all. He just feels very strongly about his little brother and how unfair the world has been to him. If it were up to him, he'd probably wrap Scott up in a big cocoon of bubble wrap and roll  him down the hill on the weekends for fun, but other than that just keep him away from the horrors of the world.   
  
But Alex feels...weird when he gets angry. Like its more than his little 13 year - old body can contain. He can chock it up to being just his anger issues, like the psychiatrist who gave him candy and gum would say. She was probably right. Though when he was really actually angry, his whole body would get all hot and he'd feel like he was burning up and it would't go away until he either spit all over his hands or took a cold shower. Usually it was the former because it was quicker. Robyn told him to think nothing of it. Of course, he trusted her. 

Robyn was, once again, just about the nicest woman alive. She did anything and everything to make sure he and little Scott were as happy as possible. And well fed, very, very, very well fed. She was like a mom they never had (that they wish they had.) but she even mentioned once or twice that there was a chance of her adopting them both eventually but there was some reason that she couldn't. She never really went into why, said it was some 'oh you worked for the orphanage you can't adopt from here!'. Alex didn't buy it for a second but never said otherwise. 

Another police man came to the house about a week later and Robyn calmly told Alex and Scott that she'd be back in a few minutes, and disappeared outside onto the porch. She comes back into the house a couple of minutes later, smiling, she tells Alex she's gonna need to go out to do some 'adult stuff' in a few days, and asks him to look after Scott while she was gone. Of course, Alex agreed. He'd always be okay with taking care of Scott. 

Alex found out exactly what that 'adult stuff' entailed when Robyn came home from her 'adult stuff' aka court, she told Scott and Alex that they were going to have to go to a second orphanage in WIlmette,  Illinois.   
  
Little did they know this would be the some of their last days together for a very, very long time.

 


	5. Chapter five, Side A.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott's years alone in Illinois.

Scott's mandatory teacher-forced journal he does not want to be writing.

Entry; April 14th, 1985. 

 

 

 

 

 

> Today is my older brother's 16th birthday.
> 
> I've been here for a year and three months now. Less than that, maybe. I don't know. That's the issue, without Alex around I get confused too much, I can't remember the date, or how long it's been and what the time is, I need Alex around, I don't understand why they took him from me. Or, took me from him, I guess. I don't know. I don't know anything, that's what Nate says "You don't know anything, Scotty, y'never will". Nate's not very nice sometimes. 
> 
> I think he's wrong, though. I know a lot of things. I know the multiplication tables, I know what time Thundercats comes on TV (half past four in the afternoon, just after the Road Runner show), I know that I haven't seen my older brother in a year and two months and three weeks. 
> 
> Today I got a phone call from Robyn, she 'just happened' to have another business trip in the area, so she's coming down to see me soon. That'll be fun, I think. I haven't seen her in a few months, I hope she's doing okay. I wonder who takes care of Flash while she's away? Flash is her dog. Black Labrador. Full name Flash Gordon. I knew him when he was a puppy, it's funny how quickly animals grow up. Makes me wonder if I've grown any.. I can't really tell.
> 
> For lunch I had a cheese and honey sandwich. Funky combination, Nate's idea. Not half bad. 

* * *

He stands up, and he hands the notebook into his teacher. She takes it. 

Scott doesn't find much exciting anymore. It felt like every day things went from bad to worse. Yesterday he stepped in a mud puddle and ruined his jeans, today he fell over onto the grass and stained his favourite white shirt. More like he was tripped. By his dorm-mate, Nathan. Or, Nate, as he liked to be called.

Nate was a real piece of work to have as company, he thought. _Reaalll_ piece of work. One minute he was more overprotective than his older brother was, next minute he was awful and giving Scott a black eye. Scott always forgave him, though. Nate had issues. So did Scott. Everyone here had issues. Kids without parents, no guidance in the world, no family, no mother to hold them.. Scott felt lucky he at least had Robyn and.. he used to have.. gosh, what was his name? His Brother. Scott forgot his name sometimes. He forget it a lot. He forget he existed in the first place a lot and he hated it. Scott hated his memory problems. This is what he gets for having his skull split open, he thought.

At least his big brother was adopted, he must be happy, with a loving family. Scott wondered how he was doing, and where his brother was. Was he still in Illinois? Could be all the way in Hawaii for all Scott knew.

He didn't mind it here, Chicago was nice, a lot of cool buildings though he didn't often get to see much off of the orphanage grounds. The times he  _did_ venture into the city made him wonder why it was 'Windy'. There wasn't much windy about it, to him at least. That's what he'd tell his brother if he got the chance to write to him, or talk to him on the phone, or maybe even see him. He'd tell him the so call 'windy city' wasn't that windy in his personal opinion. 

He couldn't help but get lost in thought, thinking about his brother, standing absentmindedly in the doorway to his room. What was his name again?

A... Albert.. No, not Albert. A.. A, something beginning with A.

"Scott? What're you doing there? Look like a damn zombie."

"Alex? What?"

"Alex..? Eh, Scott, you juiced or somethin'? I'm Nate."

Scott sat down on his bed.

"... Yeah, sorry, I know, jus' was lost in thought."

"You've been doing that a lot, you must be goin' mental, hueheh, y' tard. Your screws are loose. gonna need some fixin'."

"............. Yeah, whatever, Just leav.. leav- leavee............ me alone. I've got things to do."

Scott pulled out the book he had to read for class. 

 

* * *

 

Scott's mandatory teacher-forced journal he does not want to be writing.

Entry; April 23rd, 1985. 

 

 

 

 

 

> I had that weird dream again last night, the one about sitting in the white room, and my old psychatrist (How do I spell that?) is there with a clipboard, and I'm sitting on the steel bench, and then the dream usually ends. I always wake up with itchy eyes, very itchy, they've been so itchy lately, I talked to the nurse about it, she told me not to worry, but they're not just itchy they uh, they sting, too, really bad, really, really bad. Robyn's here today, she's picking me up in ten minutes, so this entry is shorter, sorry Ms. Craig. I've been waiting to see Robyn for a long while, I'm excited to see her again! Kinda sad she isn't bringing flash with her, though. Beggars can't be choosers.
> 
> It's been confirmed, though, I am being adopted. There goes my chances of seeing.... him again, I guess. At the end of the months the guys coming from Joliet to meet me. He's moving to Chicago, apparently, though. I hope he's nice. Name's Jack, apparently. I've got a bad gut feeling but, you know. What can you do. 
> 
> Robyn's going to take me for ice cream, and we're going to some airplane museum, gonna be a real fun day.

* * *

 

"You're being adopted, huh?"

"Yep."

"Guess this means this may be one of the last times I see you, Scott."

"...... Yep."

"Do you want chocolate, or..?"

"Strawberry."

" _Strawberry?_ Gosh, someone's feeling adventurous today. I'll order in a bit but, Scotty, we need to talk first."

"What's there to talk about?"

".. I don't trust the man adopting you. I don't trust that orphanage you're at either, Scott. I just.. don't. Listen, I've been doing some research, and- Uh, One strawberry milkshake for the young man.. And for me, er, give me a coke."

"You really like Coke, huh, Robyn?"

"Drink of choice. Anyways, I've been looking through things and uh,.." She quieted her voice to a whisper. "I'm going to get you out of there, Scott. Or at least try my best to." And back to normal. "But, who knows! Maybe this Jack Winters guy is going to be a uh, wonderful new, opportunity for you.. You could be very happy, Scott. Haha.. Listen, I'm-"  
  
Scott wasn't enjoying this conversation with Robyn one bit, she seemed extremely on edge. Extremely. 

"Listen, Scott, take this, it's a list of numbers, child protection agency, MY numbers, work, home, fancy new mobile cell phone, police stations, churches in the area. Take it. Keep it. Use it if you need it, okay? I just want you to be safe. You're a great kid."

She looked Scott in the eyes, and Scott looked back, and Scott felt a sway of safety and trust and shuffled the piece of paper into his coat pocket, silent.

"You really don't talk as much since Alex was adopted, do you?"

"Nope."

"Understandable."

 

Robyn stood up, grabbing her coat and her bag, and gestured for Scott to stand up too. "C'mon", she started, "Let's get you home, huh? Getting a bit chilly."

"Yep." Scott followed, and the two walked out the door, to the parking lot, got into Robyn's car, and Robyn with for whatever reason trembling hands grabbed the wheel.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, Scott. I'm fine. Just.. I'm okay." 

Scott knew that was a lie, the poor woman looked as if she was about to burst into tears, but she was just trying to protect him. He had a sinking feeling in his stomach, a feeling that was eating at him. The situation he was about to find himself in really,  _really_ didn't feel like a good one. No, not at all. But he was tough, he was a trooper. At least Robyn said he was a trooper.

With only a few short days left at the orphanage, he thought it best to start packing his things tonight, he needed to know how Nate was doing, too. Nate was pretty much his best friend, a real dick sometimes, and he said curse words waaaay too much, but, he was a good guy. It was going to be hard to say goodbye to him.

* * *

 

Scott's journel,

April 28th, 1985.

 

Excuse my spelling and writing, i don' t have anyone here to correkt it. 

nate jumped off the roof today . i don't want to write about it. apparently i'm being adopted tomorrow. strange coincidence. 

* * *

 

 

If we were to jump forward to the adoption date, and a few days more-months, years, we'd learn Jack Winters was  _not_ a nice man. Something unusual about him, something Scott very much didn't like. Other than his criminal tendencies, his bad odor, and lack of any nice place to live. It was weird, Scott thought, that a man such as he, who seemed quite smart and quite respectable- an Ex-Scientist, he claimed he was, at least- was living in such squalor. 

It wasn't just that, he was off, just.. off. No other way to put it. Sometimes it felt like he was in Scott's head. Literally. Telling him to do things, mostly to commit petty theft. Sometimes he'd be walking with him, and he'd just smash his hand into a glass window and take whatever was there, no injuries had, and nobody would bat an eye. Or, they would, they'd look at him, but then suddenly hesitate and just stand there. Reminded him a bit of how Robyn could tell people to do things. Scott missed Robyn. 

He'd been Jack's 'Son', for a year now. He hadn't seen Robyn in six months. Every day he got tempted and tempted and even more tempted to dial one of the numbers on the list.

Jack would hit him, not on the regular, but regular enough it left a bruise that as soon as it went away would be replaced by another, would constantly make him do.. awful things. As said, mainly petty theft. Scott didn't like to think about it. He tried to be an optimist, as hard as it was. 

Whenever he got a spare few dollars he'd call Robyn on the payphone. She'd ask about his Brother, and he would reply that he didn't know. Not even a letter. He wished one day he'd wake up and he'd be back at home seven years ago. Not that he remembered home. It was more the concept of it that made him want to go back, not the content. 

* * *

July 12th, 1986. 

Entry;

 

 

 

 

> New journel. Jack knew where my old one is, so i've bought  a new one. If anyone ever reads this, excuse my spelling and grammar and the such. no one here to correckt it, and i haven't been to school in a long time. 
> 
> today i'm going to call robyn. she's in the area. she can get me away. from him, i mean. she's agreed to helping me aleady. i've been planning this for a long time. 
> 
> i'm almost excited, to tell her all that's happened. she'll get me away, and take care of me, and i'll be safe. she's been talking about adopting me if i ever ended up back at the orphanage somehow. amount of times i've accidently called her mom aren't funny. i hope things work outl. even if she doesnt adopt me i just can't take it here anymore. she's going to pick me up from the basketball court and we're going to go to the police, and then she's going to drive me up to nebraska and we're going to lay low with her parents who live there while we sort things out, and there's also apparently someone there who wants to meet me. an air force buddy of her pop's, claiming he knows me. knows my name, at least. i think my dad was in the air force, or so i've been told. maybe it's him if i'm lucky. 
> 
> i can hear jack yelling for me, so i've got to go.
> 
> wish me luck, 
> 
> scott christopher summers

* * *

 

 

When Scott woke up the next morning, he was safe. Or at least he felt safe. His plan had apparently gone, uh, according to plan. He was in a hotel room, in Robyn's arms, he felt warm and safe and he was sure he was. Robyn was still asleep by the looks of it. Scott didn't mind. 

As Scott became more awake- more aware, he.. he was... his eye hurt. They hurt like all hell, like a fire was burning inside his skull. Really really hurt. What had happened? He could barely remember what had happened. Life felt like a dream.

"Robyn?"

"Mn.. Scott? What's up? How're your eyes?" 

"Eyes?"

"Yeah, eyes. Are they okay?"

"... I don't know what's wrong with them, jus' they, huu... huu... huuurt. Bad. So does.. eugh. Fuck. Fuck. What happened to me, Robyn?"

Robyn got up, moving so she was sitting next to Scott on the bed, and she took a deep breath.

"Scott, I'm- Don't swear. Uh, I'm.. not surprised you don't remember yesterday much, uhm, how do I word this.. uhm... Scott, don't panic, but." 

"Just tell me, Robyn."

"Alright, well, it's uh, a long story. But you're.. You. Something happened. I.. my eyes, Scott. I'm a mutant. Do you know what that is? 

I can influence people, as in, I look them in the eyes and people will do what I say, believe what I tell them to believe. It sounds scary, but, I don't use it to hurt. I'm not hurting you. It's the only reason you and your brother didn't land yourselves in juvi right from the moment you dropped the match on that damn- or, just. Scott. It's a long story, and I'll explain it better to you very soon, but remember this; Mutants aren't bad people. We're not scary, we're just like you or me. Even you could be a mutant, Scott. I.... Feel like, considering what, happened tonight, I'd say-"

Robyn let out a prolonged sigh, watching Scott's face contort with confusion. He didn't understand, but that was okay. Scott was only 13 after all. Almost fourteen.  _Poor thing,_ she thought,  _he's probably scared out of his wits, just can't.. gosh._ She cleared her throat, patting Scott on the shoulders.

"You hungry? How about we go get breakfast.. McDonalds? You like McDonalds, Sc- Oooh, gosh, your eyes. That's right."

"You haven't even told me what's happened."

"... Scott, uhm, Jack, he- did something, and you, uh- forget it, Scott."

"Scotty... I'm sorry. I'm really sorry they ever let you.. I- Oh, gosh, goshgosh. Lie down, I'm here, uh."

"I'll be okay, I'm used to it, I just, I wish.. he was here. Would be a lot easier."

"Who do you mean?"

"A.. ahhhlex."

 

"Ah.

Still not over those speech issues, huh?"

 

"Prolly never will be."

 

"Tough."

* * *

 

July 14th, 1986.

Scott's new Jounral.

 

 

 

> Today I woke up back at the orphanage. I don't know why. I don't know how I got here. All I can remember of last night is loud noises, bangbangbang. Gunshot type. And I remember her, the blonde woman, the one I knew back in Alaska. Miss... Emma? I don't know, she was there, and the Wolfman. I've seen that Wolfman around. I don't know what happened, or what they did. I was with Robyn, but the rest is just a fog. It hurts my head to think about it.
> 
> Maybe all of this has been a dream. I'm surprised I'm back here. I really, really don't understand what's going on.
> 
> To top it off, Nate came to me in a dream last night, I had the dream about the white room again, except this time Dr. Essex WAS Nate. Maybe it means something? Hurts my head to think about that, too. What's going on with me? I wonder. 
> 
> I was sure I saw Nate, too. Dr. Essex was outside this morning, in his fancy car. I don't know why he'd be here, it'd make sense if I really did see Miss Emma at some point last night but other than that it's lost to me. 
> 
> I don't know where Robyn is or what's happened to her, no one will tell me.
> 
> I have to go talk to the staff and some policemen soon, and a man, I don't know what they want from me. I'm going to go try to get myself together before I have to do that. 

* * *

 

September 20th, 1986. 

Scott's new Journal. 

 

 

 

> I've finally learnt how to spell that. It's a whole new period of my life now! Look out world, _Scott Summers can **spell!**_
> 
> I saw Nate in the streets today, or at least I think I did.
> 
> Had some Macaroni for dinner tonight.
> 
> One of the staff here said they think I'm hallucinating. I don't know what that means. 
> 
> Things are boring.

* * *

 

February 8th, 1987.

Scott's journal.  

 

 

 

> i saw him on tv today. him. my brother.
> 
> i dunno  what he was doing on there. he was wearing this weird costume looking thing, doing some funky stuff . i'm too tired today to write properly, sorry, ms. craig.
> 
> he looked so much older, a lot bigger than when i last saw him. he was with some other people helping with some military looking thing and a boat. i don't know, it looked strange. really big guy they were fighting, looked like a blob of fat. 
> 
> i feel like i probably made it up in my head. i miss alex a lot.

* * *

 

August 3rd, 1987.

Scott's Journal.

 

 

 

> My brother stole me? From the orphanage. He took me in the night? With some hippie. I don't trust either of them. 
> 
> I'm in the back of a car right now, I'm tired, and I'm perplexed. 
> 
> I don't even know if this guy is my brother. Could be the police. Could be the man Robyn wanted me to meet a while back.
> 
> This other fella is suspicious, too. Much too friendly, overenthusiastic. Looks like he bathes in golden water.
> 
> These two stole me, and, I don't know where I'm going. But at least I know his name now. May not be a lie, after-all. I wonder how they got past the caretaker so easily. She seemed, almost  _too_ compliant. 
> 
>  


	6. Chapter 5, Side B

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex learns what it's really like to be those mutants he sees on TV.

When it starts he doesn't know what to do. 

He's 17, sitting in the middle of 11th grade English, his palms are sweating, his face is getting hot. He doesn't know why though, that only happens when he gets angry. But it's not the fact that hes going to have to read _The_   _Scarlet Letter_ within the next month or so. He's definitely not mad about that. He sighs, raises his hand and begs to go use the restroom to relieve himself, but he has no other choice than just to flee the school on principle,but he doesn't. He comes back into the classroom a few minutes later, feigning sickness and asking the teacher to send him to the nurse, who lets him call his 'mother' (Adopted, remember?) to come get him.   
   
When Alex is on the drive home, he feels the burning in his hands and chest and his face all extreme and at once. He feels like he's  **dying** like this, his whole body aches like he's over worn. He rubs a hand over his face tiredly, leaving it there to cover it as he groans. He feels miserable on the way home, like all things awful and terrible and like being torn apart from the inside out and burning all at once. He feels like he needs to expel something, vomit, piss, anything. He's just in a lot of pain and he'd like to let it end.

Alex finally makes it back to his home, to a house that really his, to a name that isn't, even his own bed isn't really  _his_. His adoptive parents, they had a son before him, Todd, he was apparently the best kid ever. That's all his parents ever talked about. _Todd this, Todd that. Todd never did this. Hey To--Alex...Can you grab me a towel please_  ? Alex knew full well he was a replacement child. Alex barely knew anything about the kid, all he knew was that he was tall, stocky, co-captain of the football team.  _What a cliche,_ thought Alex,  _I hope I never turn out like that._

But suddenly ,Micheal and Patricia Blanding got the phone call telling them there son was in the hospital, that he'd gotten in a car accident, some crazy driver who swerved down the road, assumed to be drunk, slammed him head on on his way home from the football game that night. Before Todd passed out, he'd mumbled something to one of the paramedics about who'd hit him, but the paramedic couldn't make out anything past;

"There was a glare on the road, like crystals or a  _diamond_."

It was put down to a matter of the headlights and the reflective markers on the road, and the case was closed.

* * *

 

 

Considering how hard hitting it as losing a child, the Blanding's didn't really mind using him as a constant reminder of how much of a failure Alex was. Which, he wasn't, his grades just looked that way, due to the fact that Alex never bothered writing 'Blanding' in as his last name on high school papers, he'd always write Summers and the teachers would get all confused and sometimes just would throw the paper out and give him a 0.

Alex was on the swim team as well, god, right now he wished he could just hop in the pool and cool off. He was really getting uncomfortably hot now. He rushes up to his room, shuts the door, locks it, and for good measure, places a chair under the knob. Just in case. 

He strips naked to see if it'll cool him off, that doesn't help. 

He then decides to sit in the shower under the freezing cold water for an hour. It's cold. Like, really really cold. While sitting in this bathtub of cold, he thinks about what the hell this could be, because as of right now he's pretty sure he's dying. 

He drags himself out of the bathtub, lazily grabs a towel, and lays on his floor. Soggy and feeling useless and lethargic, unusual for someone with a brain like Alex's, he stares at his ceiling. 

It's all fine and good, but Alex suddenly really feels the need to get up and leave. Go somewhere. He jumps up, pulling on clothes as fast as he can, grabbing his car keys and speeding downstairs to his car outside. He lands in his front seat with a thud.   
  
Soon he's halfway down the highway doing at least 70, totally speeding. He drives absolutely nowhere. Just driving to be going somewhere away from his 'parents'. After a while he can't take it anymore, he goes into a field somewhere where he's pretty sure he's safe from the prying eyes of others. He's scared. He has no clue of whats about to happen to know. He has no way of knowing. 

And just like that, he explodes. Not actually, but his whole body goes white hot, all he sees is bright white, burning in his eyes, almost like they've been filled in with white, and he feels a dull burn in his fingertips. 

 _This is it,_ he thinks _, this is how I die. In a field, all on my own, no real family. No nothing._

This brings tears to his eyes, he can only feel them welling up, they never flow. It feels like they're... fizzling out?

 

_Congratulations Alex Summers. You're officially completely alone in this world._

* * *

 Alex isn't really sure what happened after that. Next thing he knows he wakes up in a prison cell, they say he's been arrested for arson. Great. Just what he needed for Patsy to use against him. But if the day before today wasn't the worst of his life. This sure was. 

He wakes up in a cold cell room, made entirely of concrete. He feels trapped. He gets up, paces. Paces some more. It's all he can do, really. Considering how his ADHD brain cant handle just sitting in a room with nothing to do. It makes him feel like someones screaming in his face. Like he's being pulled apart at the seams, bit by bit. 

Some stuff he has to think about, which he feels like he'll be thinking about forever. Why him? Why is his life so shit? Why is he a mutant? He doesn't wanna be one of them. He feels worse than he ever has. He wants to see his little brother again. 

He just wants to go home. He can barely breathe in there. A couple weeks or so in, they tell him that he's getting expedited to some place. They won't tell him but he hears the Security Guards talking, and he hears them mention the name 'Trask'. _Sounds like a Bond villain,_ Alex thinks.  _Maybe he is._

* * *

 The day comes, and he is quickly shipped off to just whoever the hell this 'Trask' guy is. Alex spends two days in the back of  truck, overheated as he is already, he stares at the reflective glow of his chest on the ceiling. He watches the light refract and reflect, and it's all that he can do to keep himself from going insane trying to figure out whats going to happen to him once he gets to this place, whatever it is. Next comes a day and a half in what seems to be a shitty plane, like a really shitty plane. It shakes him about eveywhere, he tries his damndest to get sleep, but only ends up having nightmares about  _that._ The day his parents died. 

Eventually, they strap him down to a gurney, and wheel him in to see Max Zorin, or whoever this guy actually is.  

Alex quickly hits the realization that this might not be as 'ha-ha' funny as he thought this might be. 

He's a man of average height, Alex thinks that he might be around his height if he were up on his feet, possibly a bit taller.  _Definitely_ taller. Usually Alex isn't one for fear, he stopped feeling that a long time ago. But right now, staring up at this guy, donning a labcoat, pocket protector and all. He's got the most evil grin he's ever sen plastered across his gaunt features. Alex feels threatened and cornered as hell. 

"Well," Alex begins, breaking the incredibly tense silence, smirking,"you're  **not** Goldfinger." 

"No , I'm surely not." he states plainly, face now looking bored. "You're Alex, aren't you?" he already knows that answer , though. He nods his head in affirmation. He gestures to a woman who stands a foot or two away from him. She approaches slowly, she's smiling calmly, then she looks to the table next to her, picks up a needle and a vial of something. She pulls from it, then leans down and sticks it in his arm, with as much force as she can muster, Alex thinks. He yelps, " ** _WHAT_** is that?" 

'Trask' just chuckles. "Oh Alex, you won't be screaming here in a moment." 

 

Whatever this guy gave him, it wasn't just sleep meds, nor was it pleasant. It was a paralysis drug of some sort, as soon as he had started to struggle in his bonds, the nurse jammed that needle in his arm and he just... went limp. Froze, almost. Well, not most. He was frozen. But that wasn't the worst part of what they were going to to him. Not nearly the worst of it.   
  
It started with just a few cuts, here and there. But then cuts became gashes, and gashes became skin samples, which then became blood samples. Alex was panicking, even though he couldn't feel any of it, he felt so awfully horrible, so scared he started to cry. His eyes were burning beyond belief, he barely was holding on. Eventually he freaked out so much so, that he passed himself out. 

When he finally wakes up, he's in another cell,  _again._ He feels sick to his stomach, feels extremely dizzy. He leans over the 'bed' which is simply a concrete slab with a pillow, and vomits onto the floor. This isn't good. This isn't good at all. Just like when he was small and he tried to take sleeping meds and got  _deathly_ ill. He feels it.

He falls off the slab, curling into himself on the floor and vomiting again. He's lying in his puke, he realizes, but he's far too weak to move himself out of the puddle. Letting go of his dignity, he begins to sob, uncontrollably so. That's when he notices a woman not to far away from him, on another bed. Her skin is blue, and from the looks, scaly. He thinks it a bit weird, and then knocks his head off the hard floor of the room and knocks himself back out. 

The next few days go by in a blur, more tests, more toying with his body, tearing him apart bit by bit just to find out exatly what it is that makes Alex Summers tick. 

Then, while he lays awake vomiting again, he hears the sound of bending metal, awful screeching and moaning sound. The next thing he knew, he and the blue girl are being carried out by a big furry man. Alex is absolutely amazed by this, thinking that they too are most likely mutants, and they're here to help him. 

Alex is thrown into  **another** plane, this time its black, sleek. There are people that surround him. He looks wide eyed at the two men standing above him. One has long, dark brown hair and is wearing a sweater of some sort. He looks almost familiar, and Alex feels strange looking at him. He feels like his brains being invaded, but also a weird sense of calmness that washes over him as he looks at him, like he used to get with Robyn. Then the other man, strong jawed, well built, seems stern, sure of himself. He wears a leather jacket and has piercing eyes. But to Alex, theres something...fatherly about him almost. Alex trusts them both already. Anythings better than what the last few weeks have been like. 

He opens his mouth to speak, but words simply will not come out. He looks up with eyes wide and full of fear to both men, and one of them, the shaggy-haired one, puts a hand to his forehead, and Alex closes his eyes and drifts off to sleep. 

* * *

 

When he wakes this time, he's in a well furbished room. Normal, pristine, comfortable. He's in a warm bed. Alex slowly makes himself aware, opens his eyes, looks around, sees the IV in his arm. He glances around some more, smiles like a happy little kid, wriggling under the blanket. He closes his eyes once again, trying to will himself back to sleep. 

After he's in the middle of drifting off, he is woken up by the man with the longer, shaggy brown hair once again. He walks in the room calmly, taking long strides across the room to sit on the bed next to him. Alex twists his eyes shut tight, trying to feign sleep. He's definitely not ready to talk to anyone yet. Nope. 

"I know you're awake." says the man. 

Alex sighs defeatedly, turning on his side to face him. "Okay, yeah. I was pretending.. Now what exactly am I doing here?" he asks, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. 

"I've brought you here to help you, Alex. That is your name, right?" he smiles, like he's trying to calm him, and Alex's chest feels all warm and not in the really weird way they have been lately. 

"Y-yeah.. I'm Alex.. Alex B-" He stops himself. If there's any way to get out of being a  _Blanding_ and going back to being   _Summers,_ now is Alex's chance. " Alex Summers."

"I just want to help, me and my associate here Erik," he gestures to the tall figure standing in the door, who Alex will now know as Erik. "And I, am Charles Xavier. I'm the professor here, and I, like yourself am a  _mutant._ "

 Alex sits up, as quickly as he and with how weak he is. "So you're --" the professor nods, and he shoots a glance to Erik leaning in the doorway, " a-and he is?" Erik chuckles and nods. "I'm a telepath, meaning I can  _read your mind._ " Alex hears a voice say in his head. He goes even more wide eyed than he had been before. "And Erik, he has control over magnetism." to punctuate this, Erik levitates and crushes a coin laying on the floor next to the bed. Alex is speechless.

Charles then explains to Alex what exactly Largo wanted to do with him, about the 'sentinel program' that he's working on. He tells him the truth, how he wasn't there to save him specifically, but to save Raven, who he was very good friends with. They both gently break the news to him that if this 'Trask' guy is successful in his plan, Alex will be in constant danger because he'll already have been put into the programming of the sentinels. 

He also explains that, if Alex wishes to do so, he can stay here, at the school that Charles is putting together. He will take high school classes as normal, and he can get his degree in Radiation Physics here as well. He will be the first of the many students that he plans to enroll over the course of the next few weeks. 

Alex nods, albeit weakly. He leans back, lets his head hit the pillow and curls on his side and falls asleep. He feels someone drape the blanket over his head and after another moment passes, ruffles his hair. 

* * *

 

Weeks go by, Alex trains rigorously with Erik, since Charles has already decided his 'gifts' can't benefit him, or in Charles' words _'Alex, I simply cannot fully understand or help you with your particular gift.'_

Erik, at least to Alex, is the better of the two. He treats Alex like a son, or something of the sort. Which Alex likes, a lot. Erik's nice to him, he trains him with patience but enough discipline the lessons he teaches aren't lost on him, and he always encourages Alex to follow his heart, not what everyone tells him that his heart should be.

The third or fourth week that he stays at the school, Erik brought someone to the school with him. A new student, Alex thought. A girl, about Alex's age, it was the age.. she had to be a new student. He closed his eyes and decided, out of something that Alex thought uncharacteristic of himself, he would snoop in on Charles and Erik and the Mystery Girl's conversation, he just... wanted to look at her some more. He felt like such a creep, but being a currently 17 year old boy, he had a free pass to feel like this. It's part of being a teenager. 

Hiding behind the doorframe, he peeks his head in, somewhat hoping he'd get noticed just for an excuse to talk to her. He listens intently and then he hears it- "This is my  **daughter** , Lorna."

Alex feels like he's going to have a heart attack. His.. daughter? Alex was currently snooping on Erik's daughter. He had the hots for Erik's daughter.. yeah, he definitely did. He ran away from said doorframe as fast as possible, and sat on the couch, face red with a mix between fear and embarrassment. Erik's daughter.. Erik's daughter; Lorna. What a pretty name. 

 

Soon after, he found himself stuck in a conversation with Lorna. She'd approached him herself; she was only there for a few weeks, visiting her Father. She hadn't met him much but when she had he'd been the "best Dad she could ask for", in her exact words. Alex felt slightly jealous, he wished he'd been able to see his own Father, even if only on small occasions as Lorna did hers. He also found out she was studying to get a degree in Floral Design, she was very much into flowers it seemed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

> "Maybe I'll get a job in a Florist shop near here, so we can hang out. You don't seem like you know too many people." 

How insulting, Alex thought, but she wasn't exactly wrong. He was not a native New Yorker, and nor did he particularly want to engage with any of them, so he just stuck to the few fellow students at the school for a friend group, which was himself, and.. another guy, a bit older than him, named Darwin. He'd apparently been through a load of private schools and something else, he was very vague when talking about his past, and currently he worked as librarian, but he'd stopped to go to the school and- Alex zoned out, _boy_ , did he ramble. Just thinking about the rambling he'd experienced was making him bored.

 

 

 

 But anyways, Lorna was right. He really didn't know anybody. 

"I mean.. I guess so, uh, say- uh, coffee?"

"... coffee?"  
"I mean, do you want to go out for coffee, sometime.. not as like, a date or anything I mean, just coffee you seem.. nice."

"Do you want it to be a date?"

"I don't know."

"Me either. Is Three o'clock good for you?"

 Coffee with Lorna goes will. He's on his way home after dropping Lorna back at her own place.  

When he finally makes it back to the school, he walks trhough the doors as Erik explains theres a new student.

He introduces himself as Sean Cassidy, and Alex almost instantly is in love with him. At least he thinks. Even though he  **definitely** shouldn't be. He has this gorgeous head of hair, all curly and blondeish-red. Like, Robert Redford or something like that. They shake hands, and have a short conversation on the couch about powers with Erik and Charles. 

Alex knows that he feels things for the Sean boy, but cant place why. He  _shouldn't_ feel that way, right? The blood he feels pool in his stomach, how he feels slightly lightheaded. He'd heard his 'parents' talking about how they saw him looking at some boys while out to dinner on occasion, or they'd heard things from Hailey. Alex was more in denial about it than he'd ever been about anything. He was sure he wasn't gay. That's what he wanted to believe. He didn't need anything on top of the issues he already had. 

He'll drown this poor kid out with plenty of beer and weed from Erik, and maybe Lorna. If he's lucky enough to deserve a girl like that.

He ignores it, and goes to sleep. 

* * *

 

The next week or so is pretty uneventful, or at least that's what Alex expects. Another student joins, Angel Salvadore. Alex hits it off with her as well, not the same way he did with Lorna though (Or Sean for that matter). He sees more and more of Hank and Raven. Raven is a good friend to Alex as well. He and Hank get along, but sooner or later something changes about him and Alex isn't sure he knows him anymore. 

Alex isn't even sure he knows himself. 

The last two weeks now have been throwing himself between wanting to ask Sean out , to Hank, to Darwin, to Lorna all over again. He can't get his mind off how weirdly disgusted he finds himself getting thinking about being in a relationship at all whatsoever. He thinks he'd like a boyfriend or a girlfriend, but then he thinks about it the actual concept of dating is rather foreign to him. He has more to worry about. Plus, if he turned out to be gay or bi he doesn't feel like that would benefit him much in the run of things, considering he's already a mutant- for all he knows, a wanted one. Nevertheless, Alex would find himself on the occasional lunch date with Lorna, or staying up all night watching  _Married with Children_ and sometimes  _Knight Rider_ with Sean, which, considering both boys had obvious attraction to each other, Alex considered that as a date as well, even if he'd never admit it.

Overall, things were going rather smoothly for Alex. This was a pretty ideal high school life. He wished he had his brother though. He missed Scott. It caused him an indescribable emptiness more than the weeks he'd have to spend back 'home' at his foster parents' house ever did. 

Every morning, he'd check the newspaper- missing persons, obituaries, the letters section, _the goddamn funnies-_ on the hope of some news about Scott's well-being. He'd listen to the news on the radio, watch the news on the television, check the letters section in that months  _Green Arrow_ comic. Keep a close eye on the missing boy on the milk carton in case it was Scott with some plastic surgery, or something.

Last he heard he'd been adopted, when he asked his foster parents to check in on Scott's status at the orphanage and for once they actually complied. Alex didn't like that, not one bit. That cut his chances of finding Scott again down by a truckload, especially since now they probably weren't legally family, or some shit. He felt himself shake with anger at the concept. No one took his family- his only real family at that, away from him. But, what could he do? Charles had already agreed to help hunt Scott down for him using Cerebro, but he also said he'd probably have to wait until Scott's powers flared up or started to emerge to find him, but, that posed yet another problem; there was a chance Scott WASN'T a mutant, and that would make him near un-findable until Cerebro finally got it's upgrade, which wasn't scheduled until  _1989._

Every day was a waiting game, that's for sure.

* * *

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One day, that waiting game ended.

A normal routine Cerebro check- any runaway mutants, little kids who's new powers had gotten out of control, Charles was always right ' ** _On the case!_** ' '

Charles Xaiver always,  _always_ came off as a nice man, but the more time you spent around him, the more you seemed to come to the realization that half of what he put out to be was an awful facade. You never knew if he was lying, if that smile was real, what exactly his agenda with helping all these kids was. What was even harder to tell, was what his creed when it came to mutant equality and rights was. It bashed against Erik's somewhat mutant-supremacist beliefs, but Erik wasn't exactly blamable. He knew what it was like to be of an oppressed group ten times over, and with each day mutants became considered more and more dangerous to non-mutant society. Even characters such as Iron Man spouted constant anti-mutant rhetoric, when, at least Alex thought, someone like Tony Stark was a hundred times more dangerous than the little boy with dog legs or the girl who could breath fire would ever be, and yet who were they threatening to 'register' and lock up? 'Something has to be done about the mutant threat!' Yeah, but what?

Meanwhile, Charles, despite the  _Mutant Saint_ of sorts he painted himself to be, seemed to believe, for whatever reason, that mutants were somewhat  _inferior_ to normal people, acting like non-mutants needed to step up and be White Knights to create true equality, and that mutants shouldn't have to do anything, not in a way like Erik Believed, but in a way that he had the thought in his head that mutants were inherently too stupid or weak to take care of themselves. Except for Charles himself, of course.

He also managed to make even the nicest comments seem overly passive aggressive, and seemed to make his almost compulsive smoking weed into an excuse for  _every action he did_. 

Overall, it was confusing, it was very, very confusing, being around Xaiver or 'Professor X', as he sometimes called himself, was like having a constant migraine that wasn't exactly painful as much as it.. made you.. forget what you were about to do? What a guy. It put a bad taste in Alex's mouth when it came to telepaths, that's for sure. It just seemed to him that Charles had developed a sort of egomania from the nature of his powers, but what did Alex know.

But, all bad aspects aside, Professor Charles Francis Xaiver had just found Alex's baby brother.

* * *

 

Charles led Alex into his office, on the desk was a road map with a city in Illinois- Joliet- circled, along with several newspaper clippings scattered about on top of it.

"Please, take a seat, Alex."  
Alex sat down.

"What's with the newspap.... oh my god." Alex scanned over them, it was a story he'd been keeping an eye on- a 14 or 15 year old boy had been found being used petty thefts, extortion, and used as a prop in various cons ("My son is starving! My "disabled" son needs a new walking stick! Wah!") by an ex-scientist named Jack Winters- but had never dreamed- maybe Charles was just concerned? Maybe the clippings were upside down? No way was it Scott.

"Charles, are you.. saying that-"

Xaiver shrugged in response. "I believe so. Children in Scott's condition usually fall easiest to that sort of thing."

"2519 West Division Street, Chiacgo. There's an orphanage there, there's a mural out front. I'll come with you if you like."  
  
Alex just sort of felt shocked. How was he supposed to respond to this? He.. wasn't there for him, and this happens.

"I.. let's. I need-" _No Alex_ , _you don't need a minute_. "Let's go."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As of right now I know all the first-class missions I wanna write out. I have a lot of ideas for that and this chapter would go on for far far far too long if I'd written it in here, so if you'd like that you can hit me up on skype (kentheeagle@mail.com) or in mssgs here. Either is fine.  
> \- xoxo Atlas


	7. Chapter Six.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott lives with Alex and his adoptive parents; his mutant powers emerge. Alex inherits an impossible amount of money.

The smell of freshly cut grass was what Scott awoke to, the sounds of birds chirping and the mailman speeding down the street on his motorbike, the sun flaring in through the curtains. All these things were very much signs of being in the suburbs. That lead Scott to ask the question; "Where the heck am I?"

He found himself in a house he didn't know, in a room he didn't know, in a place he didn't know, in a bed he didn't know, cuddled up to someone he very much did know- Alex? His older brother?

Assuming it all to be a dream, he decided enjoy the moment of delusion while it lasted and then fall back asleep. Sound asleep.

* * *

 

"What in the Sam Hill is this?!"

"Care to explain, Alexander?"

"Whuh.. Oh, er, well. This is Scott."

"Oh, so it's **Scott** , well, I'll be darned, that explains _everything_. Alex Blanding, you explain what's going on right now or dangnabbit you'll not see the light of day until you're eighteen years old."

"I'm eighteen in a couple of months anyways, that doesn't phase me, just, listen, I'll explain everything soon, okay? Please, he's still asleep, stop yelling, you'll scare Scotty-"

"We let you go away on a trip with your strange freak friends for THREE days and you BRING HOME A CHILD. Good lord..."

"Oh, we'll scare Scotty- boo hoo, who the hell is he? Scott as in your Brother? You've got to be kidding me, you expect us to care for someone with his issues?"

"No, he's my business. My Brother, I can take care of him myself, it's no big deal, really, I-"  
"Alexander, did you steal him? Did you steal your Brother from that orphanage? Oh my god."

"............ I'm getting that house you rent out in New York when I'm eighteen, aren't I? He can live with me, you've just go to deal with him for a couple months and then we're both out of your hair. Dunno what the point was in adopting me if you weren't gonna 'dopt him anyways."

"We didn't adopt him because neither of us have the means or capacity to look after a handicapped child. You know that, Alex. Doesn't he need crutches? Where are they? Does he know how to talk, can he talk? Or is he one of those mute autistics?"

"Autistic? Does that mean he's a schizophrenic?"

"No, no, no, it's not like that, it's. God, I'm never going to get through to either of you- plus, he's not a child anyways, he's what, fourteen? Fifteen? God, uh, Scotty, c'mon, wake up."

"M.. Washup.. Huh?"

When he opened his eyes, he saw a man who looked stern. No other descriptor to him- Hands crossed over his chest, 5'o clock shadow, thinning hair, a larger build, wearing checkered pajamas and a blue robe. Next to him was a woman, wearing similar clothing, who was very much a 'woman on the eighties', that's for sure. Gaunt looking face, hair up in rollers and an overall authoritarian air to her.

Was this a dream? Was he still asleep? This had to be a dream. But, it couldn't be. He was awake, he could feel, touch, smell. But, just to be sure..... He punched Alex lightly on the arm, getting an "Ow! What the-? What was that for?" out of the older. 

"Oh god, look at him, he's violent. You've let a violent autistic into our house, Alex." The woman proclaimed, getting uncomfortably close to the two brothers "Your sister would never do this. Ever."

Scott was just perplexed at this point, Alex rushing to cover his brother's ears from the awful things Alex's 'family' was saying, but Scott didn't care.  _What_ _were they even on about?_ Schizophrenia? Scott didn't have schizophrenia. Where was he? 

"Who are you people?" He sat up, pulling himself away from Alex who suddenly seemed like no more than a complete stranger. This wasn't the Alex he remembered, it was Alex but.. he was older. He was older and he was impossibly bigger than Scott was- at least 6'3, compared to Scott's current 5'4- and Scott's mind and memory issues were messing with him too much to remember this young man as indeed being his brother. "What the heck? Where-" 

The man continued standing there, and the woman knelt down in front of Scott, faking a rather hate-filled smile. "Hello there, um, Scott? Is your name Scott? Can you talk? I am Mrs. Blanding, can you say that? Misssserrss Blaaand-ing." 

 

Scott just blinked his eyes and stared back at her, confusion was the only thing he was feeling right now, that's for sure. "What the hell is this?" 

"Oh gosh." she quieted her voice to a whisper, breathing through her nose.

Scott stood up, and backed up against the wall, terrified, that's for sure. But.. also not. This was such a bizarre situation. Very, very bizarre. Were the police after him? They had to be after him if he'd been  _kidnapped from the orphanage in the night_. Was he still even in Illinois? Goddamn if this didn't seem like a dream.

* * *

Scott was awoken early in the morning by a phone call from a man named Charles Xaiver.

Not a phone call for him, it was a call for his Brother, Scott didn't hear much of it, some legal mumbojumbo about how this Charles guy had done some digging and found a way for Alex to  _technically_ be Scott's legal guardian, by Charles now being Scott's legal guardian despite Scott never having met the man in his life, and for guardianship to switch over to Alex the moment he turned eighteen years old- which was in a month or so. 

This, of course, did not sit well with Alex's parents. Every dinner was silent and filled with tension. Scott's random bouts of tics wouldn't help these situations, and once he was enrolled in the local High School, his failing grades right from the get go didn't help, either. Scott hated school. He'd always, always, always hated school.

Alex hated his adoptive parents, it wasn't so much that he  _hated_ them, as much as he hated the kind of people they were- uppity middle-middle class types, thinks anyone that isn't them is strange, keeps three bottles of wine in a rack underneath the coffee table that never gets opened except to wash away the depression of their dreams going down the toilet.  _Those_ kinds of people. The exact type he didn't get along with and clashed with everything about him. But, he dealt with it.

Even with Alex, who had always excelled in schoolwork save a few certain subjects, helping him, Scott still managed to fail, which Alex didn't mind to help him except for Scott seemed so distant and odd towards him that he wouldn't even  _write in the answers Alex would tell_ _him._ It was like he didn't consider Alex his Brother anymore.. which Scott didn't really. It wasn't that he hated Alex, or he was mad at him or anything like that, or even that it was on purpose, but with the drastic changes that came with growing up Scott barely recognized him and it wasn't the Alex he knew anymore but also he  **was** the Alex he knew and Scott was really, really having a hard time dealing with the whole situation. 

The next month and a two weeks and four days was the longest of Scott's life, a constant stream of arguments and vague insults from Alex's parents, having to see Alex get whacked across the face multiple times among other things because he wanted so so badly for Scott to stay, having to deal with containing his Tourette's in school, having to deal with the strange and sudden problems.. with.. his eyes. 

They'd itch.

Scott's eyes would itch, very, very, very, badly. A burning kind of itch, as if he'd just got chili on his hand then went to rub his eyes. Sometimes it'd just straight up sting like someone was jamming a needle into them from inside his skull. He hated it.

It was a very much on and off thing, though. Very much so. Sometimes he'd go a full week with his eyes red and itchy, sometimes it'd happen once a day for ten minutes, he even at a point got lucky enough for it to completely stop. Boy, was Scott relieved!

 

* * *

 

Two days after Alex's eighteenth birthday, Alex collected the keys to his newfound home and three months later stuffed all his worldly possessions into the back of his 1983 Mazda 323, and decided this was going to be the next step in his life. Of course, his little brother would be coming along with him. Scott didn't own much outside of a record player, five records and a duffel bag full of clothing and a teddy bear which Alex had luckily snagged while in the process of, as Alex liked to put it 'taking Scott back', so luckily the load on the car wasn't  **too** much. The mattress tied rather distastefully to the top of the car didn't look the best, though.

And so, off they went. Off down the highway, stopping at McDonald's, and then onto their journey to New York.

It was a twelve hour drive, almost thirteen hours counting traffic, adding up to fourteen counting the constant stops to look at whatever interesting things they saw along the way. Scott's favourite was a mysterious billboard in the middle of a field that had been half torn apart or something like that so it just said "PEP". 

It was a single story house in Westchester County, in the Brewster area, about a fifteen to twenty minute drive away from the place Alex went once or twice a month. Scott didn't know much about it save that he had some friends there. Good friends. 

 

 Alex's adoptive parents had previously rented this house out, but, wanting Alex out of their hair and not wanting to have to deal with fixing up the place anymore, they passed it onto him, and as Scott and Alex walked through the doors they knew this place was theirs to do as they please and not have to deal with bad parents or tragedy or anything of the sort. It was rather empty, though. Fading yellow wallpaper, the only furniture a couch, a rather outdated television- looked late seventies or early eighties-, a couple of bar stools, a fridge, and a halogen floor lamp. Not exactly a palace. They made themselves at home very fast.

* * *

In the early July of 1988, with Alex now 19 years old and Scott just a few months or so shy of 16, it started again. His eyes itching, that is. Even worse than before. On the very same day, however, Alexander Summers also received his first piece of mail, he expected it to be a bill, really. With an exhausted and somewhat excited demeanor, he pried open the envelope.

It was from a law firm.

 _Oh no._ Alex thought.  _Are my earlier teenage years coming back to haunt me?_

Far from it. Upon further inspection he found out that his adoptive grandparents, who had grown rather fond of him, had passed away unfortunately, and Alexander Christopher ~~Blanding~~ Summers had inherited the grand sum of... 

 " $ _1,005,000.000_ "

Alex was in shock- **_Good_** shock. Hands shaking, he called out;

"SCOTT, we're _**RICH**_."

* * *

 

Meanwhile though, despite the money, Scott was rather miserable. His eyes itched and stung so badly that Scott at points couldn't keep his eyes open for long. Alex took him to a doctor. They tried everything. Nothing worked. There was just something 'seriously wrong with my eyes', as Scott would put it.  

Over the month it would get worse and worse and worse and worse, until one day Scott couldn't open his eyes whatsoever. It hurt. The brightness of everything hurt as if his eyes were being pushed. Immense pressure that he didn't know what to do about. Alex pulled Scott out of school.

Scott didn't do anything. He lay on his bed in his room and he cried, and he wished and wished and wished it would stop. But it didn't stop. Alex would sit in his room with him, lay a hand on his head, and wait there with him until it stopped enough that Scott could listen to the radio or even just sleep. 

"Fifteen years old, and my life's already ruined, huh, bro."

"Hey, Scott, don't speak like that. I'm sure it'll pass. Yeah?"

" _Sure_ _it will_. When pigs fly."

Alex bit his lip. He hadn't really considered the possibility of Scott having a 'problem' like his own yet. Problem as in powers. Mutant powers. Being a mutant. But that possibility was suddenly looking very real, considering the lengths of what Scott was going through. Headaches, dizziness, all his other problems being immediately escalated. It was especially bad when Scott would just.. drop, and sort of have a freak out -for lack of a better description- for a few seconds and then get up again fine. All these, he'd heard from Charles, were symptoms of mutant powers emerging, but, considering Scott's brain damage and other issues it could be  _anything_. 

Alex let out a prolonged sigh, and checked his watch.

"This works things at 6pm, Scotty, and it's 4pm now.. take's me a couple hours to get there so. I should probably leave soon. Will you be okay on your own do you think? I'll bring home some Burger King or something on my way back, what do you want?"

"Nothing."

"Chicken nuggets it is."

"Okay."

"Okay. Maybe just try take a nap while I'm gone or something, yeah? I'll be back before you know it. I'm leaving the front light on for when I get home so try avoid the front end of the house." Alex ruffled Scott's hair and stood up, slapping on his Security Guard's hat. "See ya."

"Bye."

* * *

 One day , Alex came home from 'work', as he had always called it. Scott heard the usual gentle open of the door, but didn't expect the harsh slam that followed a moment afterwards. Next thing Scott knew, he could hear quiet sobbing coming from the living room couch. "Stupid bastard. How could you get distracted like that?"'  "Gone.  **Gone.** _ **Gone.**_ All gone."

Unbeknownst to Scott, Alex had just lost most if not all of who he considered to be his best friends in the world. Erik left, as did Raven, and Angel. Darwin was dead. And worst of all, he lost the worst thing he could have that day.   


_Sean._

But it was a strange feeling, almost like Alex had a weird sense that something was very  _very_   wrong with how Sean 'died' supposedly. Alex vividly remembers carrying his body off the beach, back to that damn Quinjet, holding his head in his lap all the way to the school. Begging Charles and Hank to just help him the best they could. 

Then after that he doesn't remember seeing Sean at all. In fact, if Alex were to look back on it in a few years time- five or ten- he'd find this entire night and day and week seemed so foggy it was as if it never happened, but, for now, let's assume that it did.

Scott grabs his safety blanket, wrapping it around his shoulders he exits the bedroom, and walks into the living room. "Ah - Alex?" he asks, rubbing his eyes. 

Alex whips around wildly, quickly going back to sitting normally and wiping the tears from his cheeks quickly. He plasters on a faux grin just for effect. "Hey! Hey Scotty! C'mere!" He pushes down the guilt and pain he's feeling as best he can. "How're your eyes feelin'? You feel any better?" He has to cover up the loss with something happy.

Scott will always bring him a light at the end of the tunnel. 

"No, butI'm fine. You were obviously upset, Alex. I heard you, what's wrong.. what happened?" He yawns , "I'm worried about you."

Alex almost feels his heart burst in two. He can't tell Scott, he barely just met these people. Scott's seen enough death so far, thinks Alex. Between seeing Robyn die and seeing that Nathan kid kill himself, friend or not; that messes a kid up. 

"I think I hit a deer or somethin' on my way home, bro. That's all. Jus' wasn't lookin' for a minute and then," Alex imitates a bumping motion with his hands. "Anyhow, are you hungry? What do you wanna get for dinner?"

"Bro."

"I'll make you something then? Or if you want I can run to -"

" _Bro._ "

"Do you want McDonalds? You can have a milkshake ! Do you-"

" **Bro.** "

"Yeah?"

"It's 3 am."

* * *

 

_"Holy shit, what happened here?"_

_"I don't know."_

_"God, my poor sofa.. Oh well, a dime a dozen.. uh, Scott?"_  
_"Yes?"_  
_"What happened here? Tell me. I know you know."_

_"I, I was getting a drink, and my eyes, they, I don't know. I can't open them. It was just red and I got, thrown back and, I can't open my eyes Alex, it'll happen again if I open 'em, uh,"_

_"Ssh, calm down Scott, hang on, keep your eyes closed but I'm going to check out the back of your head okay? If you got thrown or whatever you may've hurt yourself. C'mon."_

_"Bad?"_

_"No, not bad, you'll be fine. So you can't open your eyes, huh? What exactly happens if you open them?"_

_"I don't know, I'm not doing that."_

_"Why not?"_

 

* * *

 That conversation seemed to echo in Scott's head every day. It very much marked the beginning of the end in his mind.

Here he was, already riddled with problems and issues and bullshit galore, and now, just to make sure things were that  **little bit** more miserable for him, he had laser eyes. Uncontrollable beams of god knows what that'd take out a city block if he dared even blink, and with no way of stopping it.

He's sitting on a cold metal bench, in a cold metal room in what was apparently someone's basement. He hears people talking, one his brother, one a somewhat refined yet gravelly voice he doesn't know. He feels a fur-like texture brush on him, he flinches, he feels the bandage around his eyes slowly unravel. 

 

"Open your eyes, Scotty. It's okay."

"No."

"C'mon, Scott. It's okay."

"No, listen, Alex, I'm sure you think you 'get it' or whatever but-"

"Don't go there, Scott. Do it."

He reluctantly opens his eyes, and almost falls off the bench he's sitting on when he realizes that he can see. He could see... without causing destruction! He rushes to gain his composure and begins pawing at his face. _Glasses._

Scott looks around. He sees someone he immediately recognizes; Alex's friend Hank - He'd met him a few times in the past- and Alex standing to his left, next to a little cart-shelf on wheels filled with various.. boxes. Green? Are those green?  _Oh my god_ , Scott thought,  _ **Everything is red.**  _

Alex chuckles, watching his Little Brother's expression of delight, but it quickly turned sour, and Alex frowned. Scott just kind of looked concerned most of the time anyways, so Alex shrugged it off and in a chipper tune asked; "So, Scott, you glad to be finally seeing again?"

"Do I have to wear these forever?"

Alex's mood dropped. This was the question he'd been dreading in regards to this. Hank stayed quiet and turned around, pretending to be busy.

"W-Well.. Scott, you're glad to not like, see, and have like, y'know.. that problem, right?"  
  
" _Bro,_ it's all red I.. I'd rather be blind it's- all red."

"Scott, if you're being enrolled here, you're gonna have to be able to see."

"I'd rather be blind- I don't want to be here."

"Scott, **you asked to be enrolled here in the first place.** And trust me, it'll be worth it. You can control that.. problem, and maybe even put it to good use? Huh? Be like your Big Brother?"

"It isn't like it's useful. At all. Stop pretending that it is, Alex. I..."

A heavy sigh escapes Scott's lips, and he stands up. 

"Yeah. I'll deal with it. I'll do this fine. Yeah."

Alex walks towards Scott, and pats him on the back, handing him his duffel bag full of clothing Alex had brought with him, preparing to walk away with him, but Hank quickly put a hand to Alex's shoulder, signalling for him to stay behind.

"Go on bro, up to your room. It's the one on the second floor, on the left. Okay? Find Charles, he's uh, he's in the wheelchair. You'll know his voice. He'll help you out, alright? I'll be up in a minute."

* * *

 

Alex walks towards Hank and the two huddle together, Hank beginning to speak in a much quieter tone;

"Alex, you remember your time with First Class, correct?"  
"No shit I do, Hank, that was barley two years ago."

"Well.. anyway, all details aside, Xaiver's starting a new group, and.. Scott seems like a good candidate."

"No way. I'm not letting him get hurt. Nooo way, dude."

"Alex, he obviously needs structure and order. And his self esteem is obviously dirt low."

"Doesn't change anything."

"Alex, it'd help.. plus, Charles thinks.. let's say he's the first on our shortlist for potential leaders. That'd be a great opportunity for him."

This piqued Alex's interest.

"I mean.. in the end, I guess it's Scott's decision. Not mine. Y' throwin' around any name ideas?"

"We're thinking...

 _ **The X-Men.**_ "

 

 

 

 


	8. Listen To What The Man Said

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott starts his time at Xaiver school and makes some new friends; Tensions begin to rise in regards to Charles.

Once again, it was another morning. The sun shone, birds chirped. As always. Once again, Scott was feeling the unease that is waking up in an unfamiliar bed. Not that he'd woken up in a bed he'd felt familiar with since he was a small boy. But, that fact aside, the unease right now was doubled.

He was safe, that was for sure. But the first morning waking up at a new place, a school in this case, is always daunting- he had to stop himself. This wasn't the first morning. It was the second, third, fourth, fifth, sixth. Sixth morning waking up in his new bedroom on his new, comfy bed at Charles Xaiver's School for Gifted Youngsters. Six days, and he wasn't used to it. The Professor had assured him it'd take well more than a week to truly settle in there, even among your fellow mutants, but Scott felt disappointed in himself. After all, he was more than used to hopping from place to place, but there he'd been forcing him to settle in.

With a sigh, he stands, he chucks on his finest pair of denim jeans and burgundy sweater, wipes off his sunglasses- those are very essential- and he's on his way down the hall.

 

"Hey."

 

The girl that was talking to him- red hair, very cute, green eyes. She winces at him and smiles. Scott's face turns bright red.

"So, " The girl begins to talk, and follows Scott down the hall. They shared their classes, but Scott had never spoken to her. He didn't even know her name. "We share, classes I think. I saw you in the hallway. You uh, you like.. music? Uh.. er,.. oh..." Her walking slows to a stop, as if she'd just realized something horrible.

"I.. do you, you, uh. Your- sorry.  My names Jean.-"

"Oh, I know you. You're the girl with Telekinesis, right?"

"Yeah! But- I'm also a telepath. I'm really new, it's a new thing, I've only been here for a couple months, and I'm only fifteen and, I guess, I sometimes look into peoples heads and- let's, get to class I. Sorry."

She goes silent and walks again, head down, Scott follows. He wished he knew what to say, he didn't really care she accidentally got into his head. Charles had told him his brain was 'like someone had left the back gate open' due to his brain damage, so it was easy for someone to get into. She probably couldn't help it. She seemed awfully skittish. He wondered why.

A while down the hall, he spoke up again "I'm Scott I like Rick Wakeman and, uh, The Beach Boys.." He was going to say 'he didn't like it when people pointed out his singing', She obviously got the music question from him doing that. It was kind of a habit. He did it to distract himself from his Tourette's Syndrome but-  _God, shut it, just let this happen._ "Let's go to class.. do you want to.. sit together or something like that?"

"Uh.. sure! I'll help you with your work, if you'd like."

"Don't worry about it, Jean."

The two exchanged awkward smiles and kept on going towards class together, Jean obviously thought Scott was cute, _charming, maybe even_ , and Scott thought the same of Jean.

* * *

 

Days would pass, and eventually they'd end up on various dates together- to the movie theater, various fast food places and cheap restaurants, outings to the mall with their group of friends, who ended up being 3rd, 4th and 5th wheels more than it was a group outing in the end. A few months later, by the time both Scott and Jean were finally sixteen years old, things were really starting to look right.

Scott's friends he went out with- they haven't been gotten to yet- First off, they were all his fellow students, varying in age, but all in his current class. Firstly, there was Kurt, German-born, and four years Scott's senior, with a severe physical mutation. He was blue, furry, and he'd earned himself the nickname 'The Incredible Nightcrawler', apparently from days spent in the circus. A real charmer, highly religious.

Second, there was Jubilation, nickname: Jubilee, a Chinese-American mutant, very nice girl, who was a year younger than Scott. She could create fireworks. It was pretty 'radical', in her words. An Arcade-goer and overall "mall rat". Big into Cyndi Lauper.  

Thirdly, there was Bobby Drake 'The Iceman', Jewish, Dark Blonde, Jokester type. He could create ice, turn himself into ice, freeze things. He was two years older than Scott, making him 18 years old. He was big on fast food and video gaming, also severely diabetic and strangely infatuated with telling everyone that he was. Openly gay. Extremely musically talented. 

Fourth, there was Warren Worthington The III, insanely rich, government & business family, dubbed "The Angel", for obvious reasons- he had wings. He was also incredibly messed up. Alcoholic, serial groper. Roommates with Bobby. Seemed like he had the potential to be a good friend, but his own need to cause others strife overtook that. One year older than Scott, at 17.

Then there was Ororo Monroe. "Storm". She could control the weather! Was far more friends with Jean than she was anyone else. She was African-American, and had long white hair that she brushed compulsively in a very teenage-girl-type-way. Right now, she was the only one out of them with a job and and her own car. She was 16 also, and worked at the local grocery in the town Alex lived in (Brewster, NY), which was only about 15 minutes away from the Xaiver school. 

 All these folks were also part of a in-the-making mutant team. Charles had hand-picked the most acceptable students for it, and along with a few other members, Scott and friends formed the X-Men. Scott, was, of course, the leader. This team was already gaining traction, with their third mission coming up in a few weeks- a real battle,  too. 

 And so, they would every weekend and sometimes after class go off to the mall or arcade or just sit around inside, depending on their mood, and Scott for once felt like he belonged. 

And the sweetest and best part of all? Scott got to wake up every morning- usually cuddling or being cuddled by Jean- and know that someone loved him. 

* * *

 

Alex, on the other hand, his experience was becoming quite a harrowing one. 

Alex was a gay man. Simple as that. He was dating his former class/teammate Sean Cassidy (Banshee), and he loved him very much. They'd hold hands and walk along, they'd share intimate nights together and share fun mornings making breakfast and overall it was a very happy relationship. Ah, young love. But the more Alex, in many years time, would look back on this, the more it seemed like it never even happened. But, that's a side note.

Now, in the present, his main concern was Charles. As in Xavier. He.. changed. A lot. 

Scott was failing classes he shouldn't have been failing. Why was that? Alex's things he had stored in the school were gone. Why was that? He shrugged it off, but today, something had taken the cake; his photo was gone off the wall. But, no. He couldn't get angry. He was probably just having everything moved to set up things for the new students. Yeah. 

Worst of all, Charles seemed to be purposely trying to break up Alex's relationship to Sean. Or his relationship with  _any_ male, like he thought he'd harass them or something. "I'll help Hank carry this crate!" "No, no! Why not help the girls over there? Haha." That sort of deal. Shifty. 

Alex went home at the end of the day, and sat down on his couch.  _Maybe I'll call Lorna._ No. No point in that. She's probably busy working. 

He looked at his clock- It was seven past six-and then he looked at his TV. It wasn't turned on. He liked it better this way. Seconds felt like minutes, minutes felt like hours. He looked at the clock again. Still seven past six. 

Why did time feel so slow today? This was crazy. Something was.. off. Very off. Probably something bad was about to happen. Probably.. something. Something. 

Alex dozed off. 

_5:04am, the next morning._

Ratta-tat-tat. 

Ratta-tat-tat. 

" _I'm coming!_ keep your shirt on-, Christ- Ooh, hi there Jean. "

"Hi, Alex. "

"Why're you uh, here so early?" He looked around past her. "Where's Scott?"

"He's asleep still, I just.. needed to tell you something. "

"Yeah? You didn't need to come all this way for that, I'm sorry- Whats up?"

 "Well, uh, it's about Professor Xavier. That's part of the reason I'm here so early. "

"Go on."

"He really.. doesn't... how so I put this, uhmm.." She put her hand to her chin in thought ".. He doesn't.. like it when Scott does well at things. He keeps pulling him out of class for no reason and well, he put him down a grade yesterday. Scott's really upset about it. Maybe you could speak to him?"

Alex furrowed his brow.  _Ah._

"Yeah. I'll talk to him. Thanks Jean. Can I drive you back to the school- or?"

"No, it's okay. Ororo and I passed through on our way to get an early breakfast, soo.. I thought I should tell you now, since you never pick up your telephone."

And with that, the redhead rushed off and jumped into a little blue Toyota. 

"Yeah. I don't."

* * *

 Alex bit his lip, weighing his options up. Maybe Charles was making the right decision? Sure, Scott was smart but.. he was also stupid, for lack of a better way to put it. But there also seemed to be something very off about this. Should he just let this simmer and see what happened?

God, Xavier really was changing. He always joked he would go mad once he lost his hair but.. that was a joke. Right? 

Alex listed in his head the strangest things Charles had down in the last few months;

  * Put Scott down a grade for no reason.
  * Commission Hank (for free) to devise a new security system for the school,   _utilising missiles._
  * Made several crude phone calls to the rival school- some rich joint in Boston or something- telling them to transfer their students to him. 
  * Changed his rhetoric to one of utter nonsense. It was now at a point where Charles truly believed mutants need humans to survive, and they are straight up better than us. Or something like that. 



Yeah. 

Maybe his best option would be to talk to Scott about it first.  He'd see him today but shit- he had work in an hour.

Tomorrow seemed out of the question too, since Scott was busy with something important. Maybe in the morning would be okay to talk to him? The more he thought about Scott, the more anxious he felt- he sat down, face in his hands. Bad feelings all around. Something bad was happening. Was going to happen. Tomorrow was going to be a disaster and he could tell, but he can't stop that. Best he can do is do his Big Brother Duty and snoop. 

Another knock at the door. He rushed to open it. 

"Alex! Top of ta' mornin' to ya."

"Sean _please_.. don't do that."

"Listen y' big lug, it's my job to be a stereotype." Sean waltzed in and grabbed a juice box from the fridge before placing himself on the couch. "You got work?"

"Yeah, in an hour and a half or so. I think. It's not for long."

"Alrighto.. I'll just stay here then. I'm outta things t' do today. Been awfully bored since Moira made her way back to Muir."

"Yeah? I heard she has a lab there or some shit." 

"A HUGE one, t' whole island 'tis hers. I think if I ever get boreda life here I'll help her research.. shit and stuff."

"That's gross."

"Not literal shit."

"Of course." Alex would go over and kiss him on the cheek, taking him into a hug-hold. "You okay? You seem off."

"I'm alright.. " Sean sighed "I just.. can I share a secret?"

"Sure."

"I love you.....................

but also, I t'ink Charles is trying to get rid of me. Don't know why. Just before he ran his wheelchair over my foot! It really smarts. He also keeps ignoring me, like he didn't even introduce me t' the new student the other week, even though I was right there. "

"Ha, yeah. _Sounds like Charles_."

 

 

 


End file.
